


A Little Sun

by isoldembd



Series: Free time [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 17:11:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15029300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isoldembd/pseuds/isoldembd
Summary: When Castiel smells the roses.





	A Little Sun

Nobody knows this, but Cas picked up a little habit after his hippie phase where he went temporarily insane and found peace in the little things. Whenever Cas gets a day off from hunting with the Winchesters, fighting for his life, for _their_ lives, fighting for his angels or searching for answers to infinite questions, he likes to go to his local garden center to look at the plants.

He first did this when he was still not right in the head; it was a Thursday, of course, all the best things happen on a Thursday, and Cas had vowed his pacifism with the finality of an angel blade to the chest. He rose without a particular purpose that morning, just appreciating the sun shining and the birds chirping and he decided he has never had the opportunity to ‘smell the roses’, as they say.

Ever since his creation, Castiel had appreciated all things that grew on Earth, the way life seemed to persist in the most adverse conditions: war, famine, drought, and every horrible thing in between. Everytime Castiel had looked down and seen the pure anger eating everything in its path, there was always a little purple flower, or a small brown worm that would poke its little head out from the charred dirt and turn towards the sun as if nothing was wrong. It seemed impossible each time, like this would be the last time that a tree would grow in that spot, but then centuries later an oak would cast a heavenly shadow and Castiel would be stumped.

Life. Humans always said it was precious, but they never seem to comment on how resilient it is. From death comes the birth of a new opportunity, something new can grow and take the place of something old. It was a circle, his brothers always said. A perfect and infinite circle. Death, life, death, life, forever. A miracle, every day, every hour. The start of something new and pure seemed so normal, so average. When a baby was born, nobody blinked. Castiel would gaze down from Heaven and watch as things grew and as things died and he never got tired of it. It was absolute beauty in his eyes.

So, when he found himself covered in bees, he decided it was time he take a closer look at the little persistent flowers. They were perfection, every last petal and every last leaf, just as his father intended. Cas would stand for hours in the greenhouse of a small family-owned garden center, gazing at the flowers and the tall exotic grasses and the succulents and the baby trees. He would reach his tanned fingers out slowly, as if asking permission, and run his fingertips down the veins of a leaf, feeling the ridges and dips. He would pet the delicate flower petals, careful not to rip them. He would stroll up and down the aisles, reading the info cards stuck in the planters, memorizing them, appreciating them. He would lay his hands on the soil in the pots feeling their moisture and maybe transferring some of his angelic power into the roots to ensure they would survive the coming winter. He would close his eyes and smell the perfumes the flowers were releasing to attract us.

His favorite days to come are the overcast, humid days when the smell of a storm is taut in the air. These are his favorite days because this is when the plants are their happiest. The plants vibrate when they’re happy, full of life. Cas can feel these practically undetectable vibrations, he can feel them shifting the air tingling the hair on his skin and tickling his nose. He comes on these days and sits with the plants, feeling them feel alive, and sometimes he shifts the air ever so slightly back as if communicating with them on some subatomic level, like they are equals. It calms him down knowing that despite all of the pain and suffering he is privy to, some part of the world still finds joy in the rain.

He’s vowed to himself that when the day comes when he and the Winchesters have a home, a real, solid home, he’ll come back to this garden center and pick out a flower. He’ll pick out a flower and put it on his windowsill where the sun kisses the wood and he’ll name it and water it and sit with it. He’ll care for this flower and protect it as a reminder that all life is precious and sometimes all it takes is the little things.

**Author's Note:**

> there's a sam chapter coming in the near future so look out for that if u liked these ones!


End file.
